Dare (axgweek)
by waitingforthehogwartsletter
Summary: 'Dare' prompt for Arya x Gendry week on Tumblr. Modern AU


**DARE**

It wasn't just one dare, actually.

Their whole relationship, from the first second, was based on dares.

„No one ever got Bull drunk – „

It wasn't Arya's intention to eavesdrop, but when you're sitting alone at the bar and there's that third beer half-empty in your hand, it's not really your choice to do anything.

She heard the bartender, the guy she knew for as long as she was going to the pub (almost five years now, ever since she turned 18) whose name was Lem, talk to one of the two guys sitting a few feet away from her. She snorted and chuckled.

Lem stopped talking in the middle of his sentence and glanced at her with a frown. „Something wrong, miss?"

„Told you not to call me 'miss' a long time ago, old man." Arya sneered at him and gulped down the rest of her beer.

„And I told you I would stop the very second you stopped with the _'old man'_." Lem slowly walked over to her, holding a glass in one hand while cleaning it with a wet rag from his other. With the counter separating them, he leaned a bit closer so only she could hear him, as the two guys on her left seemed to be directing all of their attention to them.

Lem's muddy brown eyes crinkled with mischief and one tooth in his smiling mouth was half black, while the rest were yellow. He didn't exactly stink, if you could stomach the strength of the beer scent coming off of him in waves. „That boy is not the sort of a guy you could mess around with. He's tough."

Arya laughed and leaned back in her stool. „And you're telling me what, that I'm soft? Easy going? Save it, old man, and get me another beer."

Lem seemed less than pleased, but shrugged and started walking away. „Fine. Then I dare you to get him annoyed and to survive his reaction."

Arya snorted again. When she realized the beer bottle she was holding was an empty one, she groaned. „_Prick_."

By the time she got her fifth beer, she made the resolve to approach the guy she assumed was the fore-mentioned 'Bull'.

„Hi." She switched to the stool next to him and gave him a reassuring, possibly a bit of a drunk one, too, smile. She raised her hand for him to shake. „Name's Arya."

He reluctantly accepted her hand, a crease creating between his eyebrows like he was in deep, painful thought. „Gendry. Nice to meet you."

„Mmm." Arya nodded and felt like she was maybe a bit tipsy, to be honest. „Mucho gusto."

„Excuse me?"

The guy had really blue eyes. Genuinely, big, deeply blue, framed with dark, thick lashes she admired and sort of hated at the same time. Big blokes like this Gendry one weren't supposed to be strong _and_ have pretty eyes.

Also his hair – dark, black, thick hair that she was really curious about.

„Disculpe."

Gendry seemed really confused by the course of their conversation. „Are you talking to me?"

„Yes, and no. I'm repeating everything you say." She gave him a proud smirk and tipped her beer for him to knock with his. When he didn't, her smile fell, but she shrugged and took a long gulp.

„In what language? Spanish?"

„Oui!"

„That's French."

„Sehr intelligent, bist du nicht?"

„Okay, would you stop?"

„What?" Arya gave him her most innocent look, eyes wide and confused, lips lightly parted.

The bloke just shook his head in annoyance and turned away from her, putting his elbows on the counter and gulping down his beer.

Arya, decisive to come out as a winner out of the dare, followed his example and leaned her elbows on the counter, too.

„Sorry."

He muttered something darkly that maybe sounded like '_'s all right_' and maybe like '_yeah right_'.

She watched his well-defined jaw work as she blabbered on about the importance of knowing more than one language and have at least a bit of a knowledge on other cultures.

„Would you just _shut up_?", he snapped and turned around so fast she was sure he could have broken the bloody chair. Or she would've been sure, hadn't she been so very distracted by the pulsing need she felt in her panties at the sight of his dark eyes and demented look. There was something awfully attractive about the guy that could listen to 20 minutes of her multilingual rant but could also explode like he has been hearing it for 20 years. Both were huge achievements, and both she thought of as equally pleasing and... attractive, once again. „I _know_ the importance of languages for human evolution, but even if I gave a damn about studying more than one additional foreign language, I wouldn't have the time or the money for it, and I sure as hell wouldn't come to anyone remotely close to you, especially not to you yourself!"

In that moment, Arya wished he wasn't the object of her dare. She wished she could have met him on a different, better occasion, and possibly even have him as an occasional hurricane in her bed sheets.

But she swallowed the miserable, small, pang of regret and pushed a smile out onto her lips. „That took some time."

Arya jumped off her stool and pulled out the money for her drinks. She slammed it on the counter and whistled to Lem, who was staring blankly at Gendry, the Bull, who was obviously still trying to calm his heaving breaths. Lem broke off his stare to turn to look at Arya dumbly.

„Was that enough of a _'rage survival'_ for you, _old man_?" she sneered and huffed before turning her back to him and storming out of the pub.

For once in her life, Arya Stark wished there was a handsome man running after her retreating form.

„You won that dare, all right." Lem told her a few days afterward as she sat down on a chair in the corner of the pub. He sipped her a cup of black coffee and nodded to her in the little sunlight that broke through the dirty, misty windows. „This one's on me."

„You're buying me coffee? I don't think so. Save it for when I really need a beer."

Lem grunted something incomprehensible but nodded again and left her alone to her thoughts.

She sat there, huddled, with a cooling cup of coffee in front of her and an open block in her lap, a pencil behind her ear, a half of a sketch on the white paper in front of her. Thundering thoughts stormed through her head, but none of them stuck around long enough to help her drawing.

All she saw in the few lines she managed to make was a profile of a man with a strong jaw and striking eyes, even with no colour.

„I don't think I've ever seen anyone stay as calm as you for as long as you did."

Arya's tired eyes met blue ones. The Bull.

_No_, she told herself. She hated nicknames.

Gendry. Gendry stood in front of her.

When she gave no response, he sighed and leaned against the chair across from her. „Look," he started, „I'm sorry about that night. I had thought on going after you but I didn't think I would be able to control my... what did you call it? Rage?"

Arya blinked and snapped back to reality. He approached her. He was talking to her. „I..."

„It's okay, I get it. I've been a jerk. Lem's been a jerk. Just... if you ever feel like, I dunno, having a drink, I'll be around."

With that, he gave her an insecure smile and turned around, walking away.

It took Arya less than a second to figure out what was going on, but it still took her too long for her liking.

„Wait!" she called after him. He stopped in his tracks and turned around, still harbouring that insecure, painful thinking face. „Lem... told you about the dare?"

Gendry shrugged and put his hands in his pockets, letting out a simple „Yeah."

So... the guy was asking her if she wanted to get a drink with him. A guy she very much wanted to shag, to be honest, or something more, which she didn't really want to contemplate.

She swallowed the lump of concerning thoughts and strange urges and even worse – _feelings_ fluttering from her belly to her heart and up into her mouth, where she felt those feelings could explode and make her seem like an even bigger fool than she already was.

„Well then..." she tried to smile at him, but was suddenly feeling really insecure and... vulnerable. „Then I _dare_ you to have a drink with me, tonight."

Gendry smiled the most amazing smile she had ever witnessed in the history of good looking boys, and said: „Dare accepted."

It went pretty much the same from their first drink till the one a month later when they kissed.

Gendry was different than any guy she ever had in her life (not that there were plenty).

Usually, she either kissed them a day or two after meeting them, or a year or two after knowing them. She wouldn't kiss a guy she was getting to know for longer than two days, but with Gendry, she knew it was a matter of time, a matter of dare.

„I _dare_ you!" she sputtered through her laughter and into her beer. „I dare you to... spank Lem's arse the next time he walks over!"

Gendry groaned but a second later Lem appeared and Arya heard a very loud, painful smack and saw Lem's face go pale.

„Please tell me that was you, miss."

„It was a dare, Lem!" Gendry cried after the man as he dashed away, realizing what happened when Arya started laughing uncontrolably. „A DARE!"

„S-so...", she started stuttering over her words, as the beer gained a hiccup on her. „I think I've done excellently for tonight!"

„And why is that?" Gendry was grinning, leaning forward to her, his eyes hazy from the alcohol.

„You're finally drunk, stupid!"

„Ahhhhh!"

„Yes! Too bad it was never an official dare..."

Gendry suddenly caught her arm and looked at her, dead serious. „Arya."

She blinked in confusion and lightly tapped his hand on her arm in an attempt to soothe whatever was troubling him. „Gendry?"

„I have a new dare for you!"

He sounded demented, his words slurred from the drinks. But she liked it all the same. She liked how his cheeks were red and his eyes sparkly and his smile a lot more present. And how it was too hot in the pub and he had to take off his plaid button up shirt to reveal quite a nicely fitted black T-shirt.

Talking 'bout too hot, eh.

„Dare me, then." She teased him.

But he only stubbornly shook his head. „Not now."

„What?"

„Later."

„Why?"

„Because!"

And no matter how much she begged or pleaded, he wouldn't give up what he had in mind for her.

Until they finally decided to call it a night, pay for their drinks and head out.

On the way through the park, because they had parked their rides a bit away from the pub for the cheaper parking tickets, he finally seemed to decide to bring up the 'dare' topic again.

He stopped them in the middle of the park and leaned against a tree. He was still under the influence of the alcohol, but seemed a bit better than he was at the pub.

„What is it? The dare?"

Maybe she should have been anxious or scared or something, but she just felt anticipation and excitement. Whatever he had for her, Arya knew she wouldn't be able to resist doing it.

She just hadn't expected to be _quite_ so irresistible.

„I dare you to kiss me."

As soon as she moved for him, which took less than a half a second, he seemed to be reaching out for her. Like his dare was a wake-up call. Like they were both starving for the bloody contact.

He pressed her against the tree before leaning down and kissing her hard and deep. Just like she wanted to be kissed, but by him _only_.

He didn't waste time, he didn't play soft – Lem was right, Gendry was rough, but Arya was, too. And as people seemed to constantly try to make her seem soft and not rough at all, she came to yearn for the rough, pure strength, and Gendry seemed to know, Gendry seemed to want her the same way she wanted him.

He kissed her till she felt like her heart had passed into his body and till she felt like her soul had grown so much it was filling her entire being. His warm lips, his hot, disobeying, devilish tongue, his strong hands grabbing her sides, her back, her neck, her hair, her jaw, her breasts, her everything. She clung to him in more desperation than she had ever felt. She clung to him like she would die if she had to be separated from him. Like he had revived her, like she was dead before him and would be after him.

If they were starving for the kiss, then the kiss itself made them even hungrier.

„I hate you." He told her when they broke the kiss, and she was biting his neck and digging her nails into his sides, and his breath was so weak and his voice so strained and just as desperate as she felt.

She returned her lips to his, speaking against them. „I despise you."

But they didn't.

First time they had sex was a dare of sorts, too. They were constantly bickering, not really fighting, but the rough way was the only way they knew of.

„You don't dare to give yourself up to anyone, to open up, to feel something, to acknowledge those feelings and confess them!" he shouted at her as she sat on his sofa with her head in her hands.

At those words, though, she snapped (probably because they were true), raising to her feet and pointing her finger at him, spitting words like fire.

„And you don't dare to take what you want, you don't have the courage, 'cause if you had, you would have taken me to your bed a long time ago and proved that you mean to keep me there, and O could've proved to you that I had no fucking intention of leaving!"

He stormed and laughed and stepped closer to her, looking down at her with an evil, pained smiled on his face. She knew he hated playing strong and mean when he just wanted to be strong for her, but he knew her and he was right to say that she couldn't just open up to people.

„Well I dare you to prove it, then!" he whispered into her ear huskily.

So she did, taking him by his neck and pulling him down for a kiss, then pulling him towards his bedroom and his bed and down with her. She kissed him raw, and he returned with just as much fervour.

„You think I would do this out of spite, to anyone?" she growled as she took off his shirt and he pulled down the straps of her bra.

Gendry just grunted, and she knew she was right, and that it hurt him to think he could only have her when it was for her proving a point.

She trapped his head in her hands and touched his forehead to her own. „I wouldn't." She said quietly, wishing she could come up with the right words to prove him in another way that she was his. Not just fucking, not kissing, not physical touch. She wanted to pull the strings of her being into a tight knot with his, and play him a song of the strength of her affection. „It's just you for me."

After that, he seemed to believe her, and their first time was maybe as rough as their first kiss, but it was just as meaningful and left them much more satisfied.

The time that she told him she loved him, though, Gendry was near breaking it off with her.

Lem was singing stupid songs because they snogged a lot that night, and then he said the thing he shouldn't have. He mentioned _'dare'_ in that fucking sentence, and Gendry had felt cold daggers digging into his skin, because he never wanted to dare Arya into loving him.

„Would my little dear miss ever dare to 'fess up her love to her beloved Bull?"

„Screw you, Lem." Gendry hissed, but Arya was laughing. The sound made it hurt even more, although Gendry himself wasn't quite sure why it pained him so.

Arya turned to him with a smirk and then pouted. „I love my Bull, don't I? Doesn't he love me back, too?"

Gendry left at that, leaving Lem and Arya in shock and disbelief, and by the look he saw on her face, Arya had quite a mixture of shock, anger and pain in there.

But he couldn't stay. It wasn't a joke for him, and he didn't want it to be a joke for her, either.

She came after him, shouting and spitting and holding onto her disbelief and not understanding at all why he had to leave.

„I'm sick of you pretending like this is just a fucking long night stand! Like it's not gonna last, like it's not fucking important, like I'm just gonna wake up one morning and you're not gonna be there, not ever coming back!"

Arya seemed outraged by his words. „I tried making a point to you so many fucking times! I don't know what to do anymore, you know I'm a hard fucking person and I actually _don't know_ why you're bothering with me at all – „

„What did you try to make a point of? _What_?" he spat at her.

„That I fucking care, Gendry!" she screamed at him, and he snapped out of the mist clouding his mind to finally notice the tears in her eyes and the trembles of her body. She was _scared_?

Her voice was tiny and fragile when she spoke again. „I love you."

Gendry genuinely thought he would never live to see the day when Arya Stark would confess her love to him without him saying it first.

„Bloody hell." He muttered and walked back to her shaking body, taking her by the shoulders. She was blinking rapidly, but the tears kept pooling in her eyes. „I love you. Okay? I love you. I thought I'd be the first to say it, but you beat me to it."

Arya nodded just a bit and kept her gaze on the ground, but he knew she wasn't calming down. What the fuck was he supposed to say? Anything he could say could also be wrong.

„I just got upset that... that it sounded really foul. Like a big joke, like a huge lie, back there. Okay? I intended to talk to you about it soon enough, because I really do – I really do love you." He blabbered on, but felt awful when she raised her head a bit to look at him and he saw that tears had already marked her cheeks.

„I'm sorry." She whispered.

Gendry sighed and pulled her against his chest, stroking her hair and holding her tightly to his body. She hugged him back and after a couple of moments, he felt her shaking slowly dissolve.

„Gendry?"

„Hmm?"

„I love you."

„Ik hou van je."

Arya pulled away from him with a frown. „What?"

Gendry laughed and kissed her softly, caressing her cheek when he moved away. „It means _'I love you'_ in Dutch."


End file.
